Shangri-La is here

I really liked the therapist I saw for a bit when I was falling apart in Indy. There was one thing that rubbed me the wrong way. She said I made this place sound like Shangri-La. Her tone had a touch of condescension or maybe she was genuinely concerned I was putting all my happy eggs in one basket.

If it’s the place where I’m most content, why not call it Shangri-La? I don’t believe there is such a place. Nothing is perfect. Nowhere is utopia. But when you can walk your neighborhood and come home with fresh-off-the-tree oranges, it is quite nourishing.

Late fall roses and lavender make it that much sweeter. No matter how lonely I might feel right now, all of this keeps me good company although, if living in snowy cold winter would bring you and CT back, that’s a deal I’d be willing to make.